Everything Changes
by Terrifica Oneiroi
Summary: Summary: AU after GITF. Rose once asked “Who the hell are you changing into, Doctor?” Change isn’t always good, and it takes one sad, burnt out planet for Rose to issue her silent ultimatum. Reinette tags along


Title: Everything Changes

Summary: Rose once asked "Who the hell are you changing into, Doctor?" Change isn't always good, and it takes one sad, burnt out planet for Rose to issue her silent ultimatum. AU after GitF

Warnings: Perhaps a bit of language? Hell, Bloody, Bugger… you know, the usual.

Rating: We're gonna say… K+? For now.

* * *

Chapter 1: Unwelcome Change

* * *

Mickey Smith, the resident tin dog of the TARDIS, couldn't help but stand there and stare as the Doctor walked up the ramp holding the hand of that woman, _Madame de Pompadour_. She had her doe eyes on, wide and full of wonder, as she looked around the console room. Mickey knew what she was thinking, having been in her shoes, although perhaps his thoughts had been a little less cultured. He doubted that the fancy Madame would dare to be so vulgar.

There was only one blonde on this ship that he cared about at the moment, and _she_ was standing by the console with her mouth hanging open.

Rose. First, she gets captured by psychotic clockwork robots, and they threaten to take her brain. Then, _he_ goes off and strands them both on a bleeding spaceship three thousand years into the future, leaving them without so much as a TARDIS key to get back inside. The Doctor came swanning back in, as usual, with a quick hug and was off again, but it was just to fetch his French mistress. Of course Rose is feeling down after all of that, and to think, she loves the man.

"The shape, the space in this box, it defies reality!"

He fights to keep from rolling his eyes, listening to the _Madame_ gush. She couldn't be normal like everyone else. Miss Posh and Polished wouldn't dare say "It's bigger on the inside". The Doctor tucks his hands inside his lapels, with a smug grin on his face that Mickey yearns to remove, forcefully.

"That it does, Reinette. Today is a day for impossible things."

If the Doctor wasn't half right. He wanted impossible things? Impossibly, the Doctor had managed to gain one girl and lose another at the same time, and not even realize it. Impossibly, he'd lost the trust of a girl who once had been willing to die for him. He wasn't aware of that, either. In fact, Mickey reckoned that the only thing the Doctor _did_ see was the blonde tart on his arm gushing at the "impossibility" of the TARDIS.

Mickey snuck a glance over at Rose again. Her mouth was still hanging open. Shock, then. Rose Tyler is shocked speechless, something he never thought would happen. Although, if anyone could do it, it _would_ be the Doctor.

Said man clapped his hands like a showman, smiling like all the world was fine. To him, it probably was. He had an even bigger audience to impress, from different times. Intergalactic tour-guide.

"Right! Introductions are in order, then. Mickey?"

Mickey didn't want to play the game, but knew that it would only make things more awkward for everyone, including Rose, if he made a scene.

"Name's Mickey Smith. I'm the tin dog 'round here."

"Good boy," the Time Idiot gushed, like he were speaking to a small puppy that had just gone outside, and not on the carpet. The oblivious alien turned to look at Rose expectantly, eyebrows raised upwards in question as she just stared at him. Couldn't he see that she was shocked as hell?

"Rose?"

Mickey decided to step in.

"That's Rose Tyler."

Reinette's face was set in surprise, finally.

"You both are so…"

Mickey cocked his head, waiting for whatever gem was about to pop out of the Voice of Versailles.

"Different."

The Doctor just smiled proudly. He was quick to point out their relative strangeness.

"_They're_ from 21st century London. Year 2006."

"Are all people dressed so scandalously in the 21st century?"

Mickey looked down at his tee-shirt and jeans. Rose was wearing the same thing. Of course, the Madame was in full skirts, having just come from the Royal French Court.

"You're positively _naked_."

Just hearing the woman utter the word in such a scandalized tone made Mickey smirk.

"Captain Flash would have a field day wit you, doll."

Quite suddenly, the Madame's face shifted. It was abrupt, going from insulting curiosity to indignantly offended. When she spoke, her cultured tone came out that much clearer, the vowels a little sharper, and more than a little condescending.

"I beg your pardon? You _dare_ speak that way to someone of nobler class, though the Doctor has been gracious enough to grant you permission to speak at all?"

She turned to the Doctor, who looked as confused as he ever did. Her tone was just on this side of scolding.

"You should deal with that insubordination at once, lest your servants get out of hand."

Now Mickey was the one to be offended. He would allow that there were some obvious differences between 21st century London and 19th century France, but they didn't look like servants. They sure as hell didn't act like servants. Mickey was also curious how anybody in her job position had any right to look down their nose at a _mere servant_.

"Ah, I see the problem."

The Doctor had his hand on the back of his neck, a sure sign that he was nervous, or stalling. Mickey really couldn't tell which this was, but he reckoned it was most likely both.

"The palace Versailles had the most disciplined servants of the century. It was a point of pride for the king to have a court that obey his every command, with respect and class. It's understandable that Reinette assume you both are servants of mine."

Mickey snorted.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I fetch your slippers mate, your TARDIS or not."

"I dunno Mick-Mickey, I thought that's what tin _dogs_ did."

He was prepared to get righteously angry, but the Doctor held up his hands first.

"Ah, relax Mickey, I'm only kidding. Goodness, what's got you two in such a dander?"

The man truly was an idiot at social customs. There was a whopping great elephant sitting in the room, even as big as the TARDIS was, and it seemed like the Doctor had developed bad eyesight. Mickey didn't want to point out what Rose was so obviously upset about, so he tried for some honesty.

"I, for one, am tired. We ran all over that ship today, got threatened, almost killed a fair few times, and all back before tea. I'd like to get to my room and get some sleep."

Mickey walked over to Rose, who was still staring at the Doctor as if she couldn't quite figure out what to do with him now. If she couldn't come up with something, he certainly had a few ideas.

"C'mon Rose. You promised me you'd help me pick out a room."

When she nodded, he pulled her along with him, noticing the covert glance she snuck over her shoulder. They were half-way down the third corridor before he stopped and turned to face her.

"Snap out of it. You're walkin' round like a zombie, you are."

She sighed, but it was somehow more heartbreaking than normal. Not an angst-ridden, angry expression. No, this breath held a tint of resignation, and discouragement. He might not have been the smartest bloke in the world, but he knew how to read Rose Tyler.

"It's just like Sarah-Jane, Mickey. He found a new one, and he's forgotten all about the old one."

"You don't know that for sure."

She looked at him like he was crazy, which he didn't really think he deserved, to be honest.

"Were you not standing in the same room I was? I'm lucky we're not anywhere near Aberdeen."

They may have been standing in the same room, technically, but he was well aware that they had been miles away from one another.

"I was busy watching Miss Posh gushing over the TARDIS interior. I hope she gets lost in a corridor."

Rose walked up to the wall of the hallway and put her hand on it. There was a queer sort of hum through the walls, and Mickey could feel it in the vibration of the grating under his sneakers.

"She's not happy with him. First he leaves her alone for hours, and he doesn't make sure we have a key so we can get back in. She's irritated that he's brought Reinette on board, 'cause now he'll have to go and fix history. Taking her away from there has messed things up. She's going to be hard on 'im for a while."

She patted the wall fondly, and it struck Mickey as odd.

"How's come you can do that?"

His oldest friend looked at him blankly, not even realizing that she was doing something that could be considered strange.

"Do what?"

"Talk to the TARDIS."

Rose waved her hand, dismissing his concern. It had to be a gesture she'd picked up from _himself_. It practically reeked _superior Time Lord haughtiness_.

"Mickey, I literally looked into her heart. I broke open her chest cavity and stared at all the innards that make her tick. It's probably a good guess that she did the same to me. An eye for an eye, and all that. You can't come out of something like that the way you went in."

He felt that there was a lot being left unsaid, maybe out of necessity. When the TARDIS had crash-landed on Christmas Eve, there hadn't been time to do the whole "where have you been" and "what's been going on" spiel.

"What does the TARDIS think of Reinette?"

Rose raised an eyebrow.

"She's apathetic either way. Just another timeline to keep track of. It's funny, because the Doctor is being unusually thick. King Louis _needs_ Reinette back at Versailles, like a muse, or a sort of unofficial advisor. She's actually very important."

Mickey couldn't see it, personally.

"Can it be fixed?"

Rose shrugged, and tapped the wall a little firmly. It was like listening to someone talk on the phone, but not knowing who was on the other end.

"Sure, easy as pie, unless he brings her back 12 months later, instead of 12 hours. Then we're screwed."

He opened the door going to his room, which had suddenly appeared on the wall he'd been leaning against. Inside was a bed, a dresser, an en suite, and a telly. It was perfect.

"So what do we do in the mean time? I don't know if I like this "servants" thing. Who's going to be getting the Mistress out of her dress, anyhow?"

He'd only realized what that could imply when his friend's face flushed a deep red, very obviously from something other than embarrassment.

"This is insane. It's a special kind of low that even soap operas won't stoop to. We've got a bloke, older man, yeah, and his mistress. Then there's the young, rough chit who loves him like Juliet, and _her_ ex, all living together. 'S like Big Brother, or something. And we've even got our own prostitute already."

The TARDIS rumbled a little, making him glance around in amazement.

"Did the TARDIS just laugh?"

Rose grinned.

"Yeah. Not very nice of me though."

They had moved inside his new room, and duly inspected every still surface, bouncing on the bed, opening the door to the bathroom, and poking in the closet.

"Where's your room?"

Rose pointed to the wall at her left.

"Right there. The TARDIS just moved us, did you feel?"

"You know what's sort of great about this whole _situation_, though?"

He hummed at her inquisitively, watching as she smirked.

"I can stop wearing my good stuff out there, just to get ripped or stained. I don't have to wear make-up, especially when we land on a swamp planet."

Mickey laughed, well, snorted, and flopped back onto his bed.

"So I get "Rose the best mate" back now?"

The 'best mate' in question sat down next to him.

"I need a mate, Mickey. I'm so glad you're here; I would be a silly mess right now if you weren't."

He couldn't help but smile at her. A while ago, he would have been angry at being 'just friends' now with Rose, but he'd grown up since Christmas. He understood that she wasn't his, not really; she had never been. Oh, sure, she'd allowed him what concessions he would, but she had always been the one in control. She was brave and strong, and she deserved someone better than him.

She deserved someone better than the Doctor, too.

* * *

Rose Tyler was sitting in the jump seat beside the console when the Doctor and Reinette came into the room. He was wearing his usual pin-striped suit, but incredibly, Madame de Pompadour was wearing a bloody dress. Rose snorted quietly to herself. The woman was coiffed and pressed as only a French noblewoman could be. Mickey was standing behind her, reading her book over her shoulder. She wasn't sure if Mickey had ever read Charles Dickens before.

And Rose would have been lying to herself if she said that she was reading A Christmas Carol because she liked the story. She read, no matter what the Doctor thought, but truth be told, it reminded her of her Doctor, and the time they met Gwyneth and the Gelth. Back when he'd needed her, when he'd cared about her first.

Rose sighed. She supposed that it wasn't so fair of her to think like that. She was sure that the Doctor would always do the right thing. She never wanted to be more important than saving the universe, than helping someone who asked for their help. She never wanted to be the reason he turned away from a dangerous situation, concerned that she couldn't handle it, or that she would be hurt. She wanted him to always do what he did, make the right choices, save the day. It's what the Doctor did. Simple as.

Mickey snorted from behind her. She leaned her head back.

"What?" she whispered.

"Honestly, a dress," he whispered back.

She just smiled and nodded, understanding what he was thinking. Great minds and all of that. The Doctor's boisterous voice boomed around the room, like Father Christmas.

"So, Reinette! Where, or _when,_ would you like to go?"

They saw the Doctor looking at Reinette expectantly, no doubt waiting for whatever pearl of wisdom would be falling off of her cultured tongue. Maybe he thought she could appreciate all that the TARDIS offered better than some harsh youth from the council flats.

"Oh, somewhere beautiful."

Maybe he would be disappointed, then.

Rose was careful not to let her face show her dismay, but inside of her head, her eyebrows were raised. Beautiful? Of everything that the universe held, Reinette just wanted to see something _pretty_? It was a time machine, for goodness sake; the whole point was that you could go and see things that should only happen once. Special things, rare things. Who let a gift like that go to waste?

Rose could feel a wave of affection and pride coming from that distant place in the back of her mind. She knew that the TARDIS was listening to her thoughts on this matter, and it pleased her that such an infinitely wise mind was proud of her. Sometimes it seemed like the TARDIS was truly the only one who knew what she was doing.

How often did they try to go one place in time and space, and end up in another? Every time it happened, they never complained, because the time and place they'd landed in was unique as well, and could be just as fantastic as any other.

If the Madame wanted to see pretty, she should have stayed in France.

Thinking back, the most brilliant experiences Rose had in the TARDIS were when things were bleak or impossible. They had been trapped by Cassandra, certain they would die, but from it Rose had learned to appreciate the time she had, to love the Earth again, and not take it for granted. She'd met Charles Dickens, but she'd learned that sometimes being a hero meant being a martyr, as well. She'd gotten trapped in a large underground museum of alien things, but she'd learned that for some aliens, the things she treasured most, like love and pain and fear, were wrong and "contaminating". She'd seen her Doctor as someone different then, and she'd loved him even more for it, because he trusted her enough to show his weakness to her. There was _life_ in weakness; it shone brightest in pain and fear and love. These were things you didn't just happen on. You had to fight to experience them.

Rose couldn't see how someone who lived in a glittery box would appreciate running through rain and having mud slide down your shoes while trying to best a clever tyrant and save the oppressed masses.

Beauty was Women Wept, something so crystal and painful that you were rendered silent, no matter what species you were. Beauty was watching a mother hug her son, who had been dead to her before. Beauty was watching a 19 year old housekeeper save the universe because she had infinite hope for _all _angels. The gardens and the pyramids and the palaces of the universe were nice, but beauty was life.

Rose was brought out of her musings by Mickey's turning of the page. She tried to scowl at him upside down, but was pretty sure all she managed was an annoyed-looking squint. He shrugged at her.

"Well, if you're going to take a trip to la-la land, I'm gonna keep readin'. At least until the Doctor decides what to do with the Madame's request."

They both watched as the Doctor stood at the monitor and scratched his head. He looked confused, whereas Reinette was just smiling around the control room. Rolling his eyes, Mickey budged her legs over so that he could sit down. They were all waiting on the Doctor to find his tongue, a problem they usually never encountered.

"Right, err. If you want something beautiful, I'd suggest going to Blomst 6. They have the most extensive gardens in the universe, with the most colorful birds crowding the trees. The people, whose name none of you can pronounce, are peaceful to the point of annoyance. They're conservationist, you know. Save the trees, save the birds and whatnot. Fancy going there, doing the whole tourism thing?"

The woman nodded, and the Doctor put in the codes.

There was a queer chiming in the back of Rose's mind, and somehow, out of that soundless noise, she came away with a sense of forewarning. The TARDIS wanted her to know that something was about to happen. She barely had time to whisper to Mickey to hold on before the TARDIS listed severely, throwing both the Doctor and the Madame on their arses. Of course, the Doctor came up laughing, just as mad as normal, and Rose knew that if she had been with him down on the grating, she would be laughing, too. Reinette, however, was looking offended and confused, like a toddler who'd just fallen down on their bottom. Rose silently thanked the TARDIS, because was well aware that the girl didn't list like that unless she had a reason. Usually, Rose and the Doctor enjoyed it; it was part of the fun. But seeing the Uncrowned Queen of France on her arse on the floor of the TARDIS, her miles of lace and silk pushed up around her face, well, it made Rose feel better.

It must have made Mickey feel better, too, because he was laughing his head off.

Rose barely contained her eye-roll as the Doctor made his most _sincere_ apologies for the behavior of his "senile old ship." Rose could feel the righteous indignation bubbling in her mind at that, and she wasn't surprised to feel it trigger her own anger at the insensitive alien git. He called the TARDIS his 'old girl' often enough, but it was like human males said it, a term of endearment. Now, it just sounded insulting. The TARDIS may be getting on in years, but him calling her old was like saying "Hello pot, meet kettle. Is that paint black?" The TARDIS grumbled again, sparking at the Doctor.

He was lucky she hadn't caught his sleeve on fire.

Rose set the book aside and got up off of the jump seat.

"We gonna go out, or are we gonna nurse our bruised bottoms?"

The Doctor smiled at her, but his attention was immediately focused on her and Mickey. There was a childish pout on his face, which under normal circumstances Rose might have laughed at, but at the moment just irritated her.

"How did you not fall?"

She smiled at him enigmatically, having taken lessons from him on how to be purposefully frustrating and obfuscating.

"Just got lucky, I guess. Blomst 6? Outside the doors? Beautiful gardens and birds?"

Okay, so she wasn't so successful at keeping the distaste out of her voice. The Doctor offered Reinette his elbow in a show of gallantry and led them to the door. In what could only be called mockery, Micky did the same, whispering to her in secret.

"Stick with the tin dog, Rose."

She couldn't help snarking back at him, that old familiar game of theirs.

"I feel like Dorothy."

"I'll be your Toto," he fired back.

"There's no place like home?" she joked as she clicked her heels together on the metal grating.

"Thank God there isn't. One of yer Mum's plenty, don't you think?"

They smiled at each other, Mickey purposefully not thinking about what life might be like back at home while she did _not_ think about how the Doctor hadn't even looked at her as he walked out of the TARDIS. She shook herself mentally and tugged on her jacket.

"Let's go see these beautiful sights, then, while we can."

When they exited the TARDIS, Rose was immediately aware that something wasn't right. It was an alarming tingle that swept down her spine and made her fingers twitch in response. The feeling raised those little hairs on the back of her neck and sharpened her hearing. Before she really had a chance to look around for signs of trouble, she heard the Madame's strained voice.

"This certainly isn't what I'd imagined from your description, Angel."

That rumbling sense of foreboding disappeared for just a moment as Rose Tyler mentally gagged herself. _Angel_? Right.

The scene that had greeted them as they exited the ancient ship's safety wasn't anywhere near the Doctor's description, she had to agree with Reinette. Instead of lush vegetation, there were burned out husks of trees. Not a speck of green could be seen under the black and brown ashes of what looked like plants. It really didn't take a genius to figure out that something terrible had happened. War, famine, disaster of any sort… it was all a possibility. There was no life to be seen, no birds, no insects, no plants. Rose wasn't completely sure how the planet had sustained it's atmosphere, but wondered if the damage was global, or if they'd just happened to land in the control burn section of the promised gardens.

"This is bad."

The Doctor looked back at her over his shoulder, though his arm was still locked with Reinette's. His eyebrows raised at her just a little bit, just enough to royally annoy her. Did he think she couldn't feel it, that heaviness in the air suggesting something terrible had happened recently? After everything, she'd become accustomed to thinking on her feet, to reading a situation with a bare minimum of facts. Why did he perpetually looked surprised whenever she did something vaguely clever?

"Oh yes, something has happened. Something not good. The question is: what? This is supposed to be lush gardens as far as your eye can see."

Rose nodded and couldn't help falling into the familiar role as sidekick, examining the facts and coming up with conclusions. Something about the burned forest in front of them was wrong, even if it had burned to the ground naturally.

"So, something or someone has come through here and burned everything. Could be natural causes, yeah, but where's the trees? I mean, where's all the wood? I just see ash, and stumps. Who'd take a bunch of burned tree trunks?"

The Doctor looked around.

"I've never really spent much time here. I didn't study the area very much, so I'm not completely sure what kind of properties those forests could have. Whoever did this must have had large numbers. These forests are massive."

Rose looked out over the skyline, wondering.

"How massive?"

"Think Redwoods."

She blinked.

"Okay, massive."

"Perhaps we should adjourn from this place if there are foul deeds afoot?"

Three heads turned towards the woman who made the suggestion. Rose sighed to herself, wondering if the woman would learn. They didn't leave these kinds of things; they went in, investigated, the Doctor poked the sonic screwdriver somewhere it shouldn't be, they might get arrested, probably escape, and then save the world just to top it all off. That's how they did things, that's how it was done.

That's why it shocked the hell out of her to see the Doctor actually hesitating. He looked to Reinette, to Rose, and back to Reinette. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw him nod to the chit on his arm and turn them back towards the TARDIS.

He was leaving? They never just left. For Goddess' sake, they'd discovered 400,000 Daleks trying to destroy the Earth led by their insane Emperor, and they hadn't just left. Her and the Doctor, they'd always agreed that they'd do what they could. They would try to help. It was probably the thing she loved most about him, his never-ending quest to make up for the damage the Time War had caused. His mental abacus, the one that balanced the good and the bad.

She couldn't stand watching him turn his back, so looked away, studying what was left of a whole ecosystem. It felt like something terrible was happening, and he was turning his back for the first time since she'd met him. This was the man who'd flirted with a royal tree? What the hell was going on?

"Doctor?"

She was embarrassed to admit that her tone was probably pleading, confused, and not unlike a little girl who realizes that Santa isn't real. Rose couldn't help it, though. Every blink of his eyes, every second he didn't run forwards and drag her into the heart of the problem, every heartbeat of disappointment, she watched his pedestal crumble just a bit more.

He turned and looked at her. She gestured towards the trees, toward the barren and harsh land that lie as far as they could see. She held her hands out. What was he thinking?

"It's Reinette's first trip. She shouldn't have to deal with this type of thing. She's not used to it like we are." His voice had been quiet, but then again, there was no noise on the planet. Everything was dead, decimated and burned to nothing more than ash. The wildlife, the animals, the _people_ were gone, and he didn't want to offend his newest conquest.

He didn't want Reinette Poisson's first trip to be harsh or demanding. She wasn't _used_ to it.

He seemed to have forgotten a terrified nineteen year-old girl fresh off the Estate, crying and screaming inside a fiery tomb, wondering if she was going to roast along with her planet and thinking about her mum's perfume. He'd yelled at her, left her, gone off with some strange tree/woman hybrid, and she'd almost been killed.

Yet, he'd ended up saving her, saving all the delegates that he could from Platform One. He'd come back, solved the problem, saved her and everyone else. A few had died, some willingly and some not so much, but it had been a success. He might have left her, but he came back. He couldn't turn his back on her, or on the trouble they were all in.

But there he was, disappearing into the TARDIS with the courtesan clinging to his elbow.

"That's… that's not good, is it?"

Mickey's voice startled her out of her shock, at least for a moment.

"I don't know what in the hell just happened."

Rose stared at the open TARDIS door.

This wasn't like yesterday. He'd left her and Mickey, left his ship even, on a derelict spaceship thousands of years in the future with no known way of getting back. At the time, she'd been royally pissed off at him, the anger building up once the despair had finally gone. But this? This was so much worse, because he was dooming more than a couple of humans this time. He had just knowingly turned his back on an entire planet that desperately needed his help.

She wasn't sure who exactly that man was.

Because he wasn't her Doctor.

* * *

It was really the Doctor's fault that the TARDIS was so angry.

They'd started out their adventure together so long ago on that backwards planet he'd called home, eager to find out what more was out there for them. The TARDIS hadn't developed quite the personality then as she had today, still being rather shiny and new, and didn't know what to make of the humans her Time Lord kept dragging on board with them. There was a train of human heartbeats coming and going over the years, and with each foray into their confusing little minds, the TARDIS began to, well, grow.

Emotions were always something they'd both had trouble with. The Doctor wasn't sure what to do with his companions' sometimes volatile moods, and the TARDIS wasn't sure what to do with her own budding feelings. Emotions in human beings were all chemical reactions, chemicals the TARDIS didn't have, _couldn't_ have. However, the Doctor always encouraged her to learn, to try and understand little creatures who were like mayflies to her.

Every time she dipped into a companion's head, she _felt_. Humor, Joy, Jealousy, Wonder, Confusion… all quantifiable situations, yes, but utterly impossible reactions. Being largely a Gallifreyan species, the TARDIS had never seen what happened when evolution went in reverse. They would scream and rage, cry and tremble, smile and laugh. Sometimes they danced when they thought the Doctor wasn't watching them. Sometimes they got overwhelmed and huddled down into comforting bedding. It was chaotic and strange, and as the Doctor learned more about them, so did the TARDIS.

For such a long time, the TARDIS had imagined she knew everything there was to know about humans, their motivations and the base emotions that drove them to action.

That was before Rose Tyler forced her way into the TARDIS's heart, before their minds met in a way that no companion had ever dared. The TARDIS was thrust into the heart of the human maelstrom, at the center of the human's emotions. She felt the burning rage, the helpless despair, the fierce determination, and that glowing, pulsing joy that made it all possible. For the first time, the nearly immortal time machine _understood_.

Rose Tyler had made it possible for the TARDIS to react emotionally, and the Doctor had only glimpsed the changes in his oldest friend. However, he was going to realize very quickly that sharing a heart with a human had changed her, changed them both.

The TARIDS was angry. It was an old-fashioned, motherly, disappointed anger that only a foolish and unruly child can bring about. She couldn't cuff her Time Lord about the head, couldn't pull on his ear to get his attention, so she throws him on the ground.

He's made a mess of things with Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, but he's too trilled with his new friend to notice it. He's got a shiny new toy, and he can't be bothered with the rest of it. This regeneration seems to be a bit dodgy, a little more flighty than before. She wants to shake some sense into him, some Time Lord Sense. She wants to trap him in a broom closet and show him the fraying time threads.

But he won't listen to her. He's blocking her repeated attempts to warn him out of his head. He's even gone so far as to ignore his companions, the ones that had been there before the Little Queen. Even the boy can tell something isn't right.

Rose Tyler is another story entirely. If it were possible for any human to _know_ the Doctor, she would have to say that the girl certainly came the closest. Having been so connected to the golden human child, she finds she can read her that much easier. She can feel those minute vibrations in her heartmate's aura, the disturbed and hurt waves flowing through the girl's mind. It's all there, plain as day for anyone to see, and the Doctor is purposefully ignoring it.

The TARDIS has never been truly mad before. She wasn't sure she actually _could_ be angry until this moment, this final straw. The Doctor had never brought out this emotion in her; she'd never felt the need for it.

She had a wounded timeline to preserve, a companion who carried many potential paradoxes upon her head, a Time Lord who was doing his best to ignore his third heart and her warnings, and then there was Rose. The companion who'd stuck around after witnessing a violent regeneration, who'd been ready to die so long as she could die with the Doctor, the girl who took all of the Doctor's worst characteristics in stride and who loved him with every human emotion there was. The Doctor was being obtuse and insulting and hurtful, and he was completely oblivious to the sadness in his companion's eyes.

The TARIDS was angry, and by Rassilon, Omega, and the Other, The Doctor was going to know it, one way or another.

* * *

Mickey had already walked down a corridor and disappeared, but all Rose could do was stand there and stare. Reinette had gone somewhere deeper into the ship as well, and they were, for the first time, alone in the console room. This was the first time in four days that they'd had a moment alone, but she was terrified of opening her mouth to speak for fear of what might come out.

"You alright?"

It seemed as though the Doctor was going to do it for her, starting out with something non-combative, something blasé and oh, so normal, but she couldn't return it. She couldn't, _wouldn't_ stand there and pretend she was anything close to "alright".

"No."

Rose saw the way he flinched, just a little bit, and tried so desperately to squash that flare of hope that built suddenly. It was obvious he was now picking up on her tone, on her posture. He'd been able to look anywhere but at her since the French Bint had come aboard, but now he had to deal with it head on. Seemed he didn't like the prospect.

"What's wrong?"

There wasn't any answer she could give him that wouldn't offend, wouldn't cut him down, and even now, after everything, she tried so hard to soften it for him.

"You."

He raised an eloquent eyebrow at her now, facing her finally where she stood on the grating by the jump seat.

"What about me?"

Rose refused to look away, even knowing what her words would do to him. Wasn't this what she'd wanted? To make him see what he was doing?

Only, why did it burn so much to say the words?

"You chose _killer_."

His eyebrows jerked up into his hairline in reaction, which was pretty much expected. He had to know she'd chosen those words precisely, to remind him of a time not so long ago.

She could see his mind turning, wondering how she knew that bit of information, wondering if she knew everything else. He wasn't getting the picture, wasn't focusing on the important issue.

"Whom did I kill, Rose?"

She shook her head, glancing over her shoulder at the closed door.

"That planet, something horrible happened, and you turned your back on them. You sentenced them to death as plainly as if you'd done it yourself."

Rose watched him roll his shoulders, head twitching to the side just a bit, as if to look out the doors at a scene she was sure he'd memorized already. The worst part of this whole thing was that she _knew_ it was killing him not to go out there. The most painful thing he'd done was make a conscious choice to ignore his own eyes.

"And the coward's choice would have been…?"

There was a nudge in her mind, a gentle push telling her not to cushion the blow. Somehow she knew that they both knew what she was going to say, but that the act of saying it out loud would be more significant. The TARDIS was only telling her what she already knew, anyway.

"You always choose coward, letting your compassion and your hearts rule your actions, and usually, that's what ends up saving the world, the compassion of the Last Time Lord. Your anger and your fury can destroy entire civilizations, but your compassion and your love can salvage almost anything, even when it looks to be too late."

The Doctor shifted around the console, looking at the monitor, looking at this dial or that lever. He was looking everywhere but her, but they both knew he was listening now.

"I didn't want Reinette to have to suffer on her first trip."

Rose couldn't help but sigh, because there were suddenly words in her head, words she'd tried so hard to not bring back up. It didn't seem fair to pull that card on him. It had been so long ago. The ship hummed around them, gentle and admonishing at the same time. When she spoke, it was quiet, but resolute. Final.

"And in doing so, you did the one thing you never have before, the one thing I never would have asked of you. You chose a girl over the entire world."

She knew they both remembered his words. "I could save the world but lose you." With Jackie Tyler screaming at him not to, that he'd better not dare do whatever it was he was planning on doing, he'd nearly missed Rose tell him to "do it." In that moment, he'd seemed so conflicted about what was the right choice, but she'd gone ahead and reassured him. Steadied his decision and supported him completely.

And today, he'd done the opposite, for a woman he'd read about in history books, and whom he'd known for a little over twenty-three hours. He'd actually chosen some random woman's comfort over the lives of an entire planet. It had been a peaceful planet, with good people on it.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him again. She was only a little angry at him. She was more angry that he'd betrayed himself, and everything he stood for. He always gave them a chance, even the bad ones. Especially the bad ones.

She was hurting for him, too, because he didn't even seem aware of what he'd done, really. When he had suggested they leave, up on Satellite 5, rewiring the consoles, and she'd told him she was just too good to turn her back when others needed help, he'd smiled at her. She knew that he was proud of her. In that compound with the first Dalek she'd ever met, she had been proud of him, too. They made each other better people.

She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't make the Doctor into a better person just because she knew he _could_ be. It had to be his choice. He had to make the decision to be better than he had been, and until he did, until he decided that he was worth that, she didn't want to be here. She didn't want to have to watch him degrade himself, to betray his own ideals. Eventually, that would catch up to him, and it broke her heart to see it. She wasn't strong enough to witness that.

She touched that golden thread in the back of her mind, pictured her room at the flat in London, pictured herself walking in the doorway holding her rucksack and looking for all the world like her best friend had died.

The TARDIS understood what she wanted, but resisted.

She didn't want to leave. The TARDIS was her home, her friend. She loved the Doctor more than anything, but he needed time to understand what had happened. Perhaps her leaving would jolt him into thinking a little more about his actions.

The TARDIS showed her a memory, her first Doctor with his haunted eyes, his pleading expression. She knew it would hurt him if she left, but she had been hurting, too. She had been hurting for him, because of him, and because of herself.

Maybe he only needed the shock of her leaving him on her own, because of something he'd done. She'd felt that shock, him leaving her at that church back in 1986, because she hadn't listened, and because she'd behaved like a spoilt child. She'd known that he wouldn't leave her forever, of course, but it had been enough for her to really think about all that she'd caused.

The TARDIS chimed in annoyance, but there was a reluctant acceptance there, too. Rose knew that she wouldn't be gone too awful long, a week or two, before the TARDIS reappeared, but it was enough. They would work together on this, they decided, the two beings in the universe who knew their Doctor, who hurt for him and loved him, and wanted him to fight back. She smiled inside of her head, sending a feeling of thanks and love and promise that she'd be back soon enough. The engines sprang to life around them, altering their course without the Doctor's consent, and his baffled voice rang out above the din.

"Solar System… Earth… England… London… Powell Estates… 21 February 2006?"

She just looked at him and nodded.

"It's time, Doctor. I'll just go and tell Mickey."

His mouth fell open and all of the color faded from his face. He blinked, and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he'd had a chance to respond, she was gone down the corridor to explain to Mickey her plan, her decision. She clung desperately to the hope that this was what he needed to understand how his actions or non-actions affected others around him. She fought the tears, telling herself that she wasn't really leaving.

It still hurt, though, that it had come to this.

Rose Tyler's silent ultimatum.

* * *

The Doctor watched Rose and Mickey re-enter the console room, murmuring amongst themselves. To his left, Reinette had been trying to engage him in conversation, but his eyes had pinned onto Rose as soon as she entered the room.

Rose Tyler was leaving him. After she'd promised him forever, she was leaving him. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. Every inch of his life was covered with her: waking up, gleeful to catch a glimpse of the untamed Rose, pink fluffy pajamas and bed-head, sitting in the library, talking about the differences in human life and alien life, or dancing around the central rotor in the control room, laughing and teasing and living. Every inch of him was connected to her, and he couldn't envision a life without her.

This was quite possibly the last time he'd ever see her, and he couldn't think of anything to say. The Doctor who ran his gob nonstop was at a loss for words. Would wonders never cease?

"Rose, Mickey, you are disembarking so soon?"

Trust Reinette to point out the blaringly obvious, he thought. They were standing there, luggage in hand. They were on Earth in the 21st century. Could it get any more plain to see? The rude thoughts popped in at random, without his permission.

He didn't expect Rose to answer kindly to Reinette's query, and was surprised at the genuine warmth in his best friend's voice. He would be able to tell if she were being moody or sullen, but it just wasn't there.

"Yes, we're going home. We're here, actually, if you'd like to see the 21st century."

"Why are you going now? I was looking forward to learning more about your culture."

Rose smiled a small, gentle grin that one might use with a 4 year old human child. It seemed that the girl off the Estate could mimic the haughty condescending tone of French Royalty just fine, thank you.

"Someone once told me the best way to experience another culture is to just jump in, use the wrong verbs, get charged too much, and end up kissing a complete stranger."

She turned to face him properly, and he couldn't stop the way the dread settled into his stomach.

"Thank you, Doctor. You've shown me things I'd have never gotten to see back here. You saved me from that mundane life before I even knew that I wasn't cut out for it. But we grow, we learn from our mistakes, we change. This is me, changing. If you ever need me, you know where I'll be."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the doorway. Mickey stooped and picked up her duffel before the Doctor found his voice.

"Mickey, tin dog of the TARDIS, you don't have to go too."

Mickey smiled at him, a genuine smile that the Doctor hadn't been expecting.

"You've heard that dog is man's best friend? Well, this tin dog happens to be woman's best friend, and you're the one barking if you ever thought I was anyone but Rose's tin dog, Doctor. Thanks for… well, nothing, really. Madame de Pompadour, it was nice to meet you. I hope you two will be able to fix the timeline eventually."

The Doctor rushed to ask him what he meant by 'fix the timeline', but Mickey had already gone, following Rose around the corner and out of sight. Reinette peeked her head out of the door, not even daring to step out fully after the Doctor.

"This is the 21st century?"

"This is 2006, Reinette. We're in London right now."

She looked around the dirty alleyway with wide eyes, taking in the tipped bins, trash on the street, broken bottles and rusty metal siding.

"I would never have imagined."

And that was the trouble, wasn't it? That Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson had been content to live her life in her own glass box, but Rose, she'd never fit in that box, and she'd jumped at the chance to break out of it. From one box and into another, she'd found a home with him, his TARDIS, and the stars and planets they visited.

Rose Tyler was a goddess on twelve planets, and an enemy of the state on another 23 (thanks to him, she'd always said.) Rose Tyler was known throughout the universe as that brave, tenacious woman that traveled through space and time, and still managed to find a crowded London street beautiful.

Rose Tyler had just walked away from him, from the TARDIS, from that life. The Doctor wondered if perhaps, for the first time in a long time, the stars and the universe just weren't enough.

* * *

Okay! Time to Explain: I recently went back and re-read some of my fictions. It was a painful process, let me tell you. I very much wanted to scrap it all. However, I didn't. I had started to EDIT this fic a while back, and said to myself, Eh, why not?

No doubt this was familiar. It's pretty much the same thing, except with better grammar, clearer speech flow, and less brain-numbing repetition. (Less, I said, not No. There's a bit left, yeah.)

Thanks!


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